The Cases of Hildegarde Withers (2 page)

“A
.32
automatic
is
a
bad
plaything
for
an
hysterical
girl,”
admitted
Miss
Withers
thoughtfully.
“May
I
ask
why
you
think
this
Elsie
Pender
might
choose
your
dinner
party
tonight
as
the
proper
scene
for
a
murder?”

The
dowager
smiled
feebly.
“I’m
a
little
to
blame
for
that.
When
I
heard
the
girl’s
tragic
story
—
the
old,
old
story
—
I
suggested
that
Miss
Pender
appear
at
my
apartment
tonight
and
face
the
doctor,
whom
she
says
has
refused
to
see
her.
I
thought
—
”

“You
thought
it
might
be
an
immediate
cure
for
your
daughter,
isn’t
that
it?”
The
Inspector
gnawed
his
cigar.
“You
wanted
her
to
take
it
quick,
on
the
chin?”

Mrs.
Lapham
nodded.
“But
I
didn’t
imagine
there
would
be
any
danger
of—of
violence.”
She
shuddered.
“I
have
requested
that
there
be
no
placing
of
uniformed
men
about,
no
shadowing.
If
the
girl
puts
in
an
appearance,
I
hope
to
get
at
the
truth
quietly
and
without
scandal.
Perhaps
I
can
reason
with
her.
But
I
thought
it
might
be
a
good
idea
to
have
some
responsible
person
on
hand
just
in
case.”

“I
see,”
said
Miss
Withers.
“I’m
a
precautionary
measure.”

“Rather,
yes.
You
will
be
introduced
as
Corinne’s
aunt
—
her
aunt
Martha,
from
Dubuque.
You
should
have
no
difficulty
in
passing
as
an
eccentric
relative
from
the
Far
West.”

“Thank
you
so
much,”
came
back
the
schoolteacher,
with
a
wry
smile.
“Dinner
at
eight?
I’ll
dig
out
my
coral
earrings
and
the
dotted
Swiss.”

Miss
Withers
swept
into
the
Lapham
apartment
early,
in
time
for
a
brief
chat
with
Corinne,
who
contrived
somehow
to
resemble
both
her
dowager
mother
and
a
hothouse
flower.
Something
orchidaceous
and
expensive,
the
schoolteacher
decided.

“Delighted
to
have
you
as
an
aunt,”
the
girl
was
saying.
“But
I
haven’t
the
slightest
idea
what
this
is
all
about.
Is
somebody
after
the
family
jewels?
Because
if
they
are,
they’d
better
try
the
safety
deposit
vault
—
”

“I
don’t
know
much
more
than
you,”
Miss
Withers
admitted.
“I’m
just
here,
that’s
all.
Perhaps
it
has
something
to
do
with
your
late
father’s
contributions
to
the
police
welfare
fund.
But
enough
of
that.
Tell
me
who’s
to
be
here
tonight.”

Corinne
smiled.
“Just
the
Hemples
—
old
neighbors
of
ours
from
when
we
lived
in
Georgetown.
And
their
son
Vaughan,
my
first
beau.
Then
there’s
Dr.
Parkhill,
looks
like
a
frog
but
he’s
rather
a
dear.
And
Paul
Severance,
of
course—
”

“Your
fiancé
,
yes?
Tell
me
about
him.”

“Oh,
Paul
is
quite
passable.
Notice
this
scar
on
my
chin?”

Mrs.
Withers,
puzzled,
shook
her
head.

Corinne
beamed.
“That’s
because
of
Paul.
I
went
through
a
windshield
up
on
the
Post
Road
one
night
last
summer
when
Vaughan
Hemple
forgot
to
turn
out
for
a
tree.
I
was
pretty
well
scrambled
but
Paul
Severance
lifted
the
scar
as
neat
as
you
please.
Cleverest
beauty
doctor
in
America,
they
say.
Anyway,
that’s
how
I
met
him.”

“You’re
very
much
in
love,
aren’t
you?”

“In
love?”
Corinne
shrugged,
with
all
the
worldly
wisdom
of
twenty.
“What’s
love
anyway?
All
I
know
is,
he’s
not
too
bad
looking
and
his
rumba
isn’t
too
nauseating
…
”

Mrs.
Lapham
interrupted
at
this
point
to
inform
Corinne
that
the
other
guests
were
arriving.
A
moment
later
Miss
Withers
was
introduced
to
Dr.
Severance,
a
tall
man
with
a
plump
boyish
face.
A
little
on
the
smooth
side,
she
thought.
But
in
spite
of
what
she
had
heard
about
him,
she
felt
herself
warming
to
the
man
when
he
took
her
hand
in
his
own
lean
sensitive
fingers.
“So
you’re
Corinne’s
Aunt
Martha!
Just
as
she
described
you
to
me
…
”

“A
good
glib
liar,”
she
noted
mentally.

“I’d
better
practice
calling
you
Aunt
Martha
too,
eh?”

She
nodded.
“You’re
a
beauty
doctor,
aren’t
you?
I
suppose
that
when
you’re
in
the
family
I
’
ll
get
all
my
plastic
surgery
free?”